


and as we fall may the angels lift us up

by Skyebyrd



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Religion, catholic school boy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyebyrd/pseuds/Skyebyrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why Mr. Free, don’t you know how wrong it is to love another man?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	and as we fall may the angels lift us up

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s pretend Michael’s birthday is in the fall for the sake of this story. And he just turned 18 and it says 16 in here somewhere but I couldn’t find it after reading it over three times so if you see that ignore it it is wrong
> 
> I also can't figure out how to insert art into here, but I put links in where the art is supposed to go, if someone can teach me how to do that that'd be swell!

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening to me.”

“Michael Jones, that language is part of the reason you’re going to boarding school, and it’s against the rules there, so you better learn how to behave like a normal kid, buster.”

Michael takes a breath in and lets it out very, very slowly, letting his mother hear how exasperated he is. She doesn’t react, so he puts his head back against the window of the plane and watches as the ground inches closer as they begin landing.

In hindsight, Michael probably shouldn’t have gotten shitfaced with his friends on his sixteenth birthday. In his own home. A few minutes before he knew his parents were scheduled to come home from work. And now look where he is; on a plane to motherfucking _Texas_ to stay in some bullshit Catholic boarding school (St. Peter’s? St. Thomas’? Who fucking knew, and who fucking cared). He wasn’t even Christian, for crying out loud! Couldn’t his parents have had the decency to send him to military school, at the very least? Maybe then he’d get some fucking muscles.

But, no. No amount of pleading and apologies and lockdown could persuade his parents from their decision, so he was on his way to Bumfuck, Texas to spend the remainder of the school year being tortured and brainwashed into religion. Lovely.

At least his father isn’t on the plane with them. He’d probably beat the shit out of Michael for so much as saying a word to his mother (needless to say, Michael’s father was much less than pleased with the sight of Michael getting a lapdance from his friend Kerry as a birthday present).

Michael sighs once more, hearing the engines reverse and watching as the brakes are put out; the wind going against them is loud and his ears pop multiple times, causing a giant headache to split across the left side of his head.

The pain in his head doesn’t let up for a few hours, his baggage was sent to motherfucking Alaska on accident and won’t be in town for another fucking two days, and he’s already sweating buckets.

Michael briefly entertains the thought that it’s God’s way of saying “Welcome to Texas, asshole. Enjoy your stay.”

…

His mother doesn’t say more than two words to him when she drops him off at the school with a small bag of newly bought toiletries, clothes with “I Heart Texas!” written all across them, and three bottles of sunscreen. They had to hunt all across the airport to find him new things to last him the two days he would be without his bags and Michael constantly tried to crack jokes, make snide comments, do _anything_ to get a reaction out of his mother, just so they could part on at least better terms, but none of it worked. She didn’t acknowledge him, just went around and picked things up and paid for them and shoved it to Michael for him to carry.

In the end, he stopped trying.

But now he stands in the foyer of a giant school that looks more like a cathedral than a place of learning, with three plastic bags, his wallet which holds his driver’s license and four hundred and twenty three dollars (hastily grabbed from his jar hidden back in his closet), and registration papers. He walks down a hallway, following a sign that says “Main Office” and his shoes squeak and echo down the empty hallway.

He gets to the door, and stands there, arm raised to knock but his nerves not letting him. He’s shell-shocked, in one of those moments where “holy shit this is really happening” is blasting in his ears at full volume and oh god, he can’t breathe, they’re going to make him wear a dunce cap for being a dirty rotten sinner and he’s so going to hell, _holy shit_ -

The door opens to reveal a nun, and she smiles brightly at him. 

“Welcome, my child. Come in, come in! I thought I heard you walking up the hall but then it stopped, so I figured I would help you out a bit. There’s no need to be nervous, darling.”

Michael is still a bit frozen, but is polite enough to know to smile back, even if it’s only a slight one.

“Uh, thanks…Sister.” His mouth forms around the pronoun awkwardly, not used to referring to anyone like that (what is this, Japan? Maybe he should whip out the “onii-chan” next time).

“Follow me, and we’ll get you sorted as quick as a button.” She moves farther back into the room and Michael follows. To his surprise, it looks like the stereotypical principal’s office, with a secretary and a waiting area complete with horrible chairs and obviously fake plants. A copy of The Last Supper is hung on the far wall, a cross to its right, and the words of John 3:16 are painted around it. Michael almost scoffs at the sight.

 _Typical_ , he thinks to himself.

“My name is Sister Angela, by the way.” The woman says as she walks into another room, sitting behind a large desk and motioning for Michael to sit in one of the chairs meant for guests.

He nods to her and sits down. “Michael Jones.”

She smiles, again.

“A very strong name, Michael. Now, I noticed you are without your parents, but I suppose you have all the necessary paperwork to give to me so we can get you settled in?” She holds her hands out expectantly, her other hand moving the mouse on her computer around so it flickers to life again. He nods again and sifts through his three bags until he finds the crumpled papers, shoved in the bottom. He hands them to her after smoothing them out on the arm of his chair.

“Good, good, I’ll enter this information in later, but let’s get you into a room and get your schedule first, yeah?” She types some things quickly, and then clicks something with the mouse and Michael jumps as a loud whirring sound comes from his left, and he sees a few papers being printed out from what looks like a printer from the Jurassic Period. Now that he looks a bit closer, the computer looks at least ten years old as well, and he forces himself not to groan. He really doubts this place has wi-fi. Fucking great.

“If you could just pick those up and look them over for me?” Her fingers are still typing things into the computer so he doesn’t bother nodding at her as the action would be missed, and he reaches over and picks up the papers and does as he’s told.

He flips through them until he reaches his schedule and looks it over. It’s relatively normal, the only exception from his old school being the mandatory bible study class and the fact that Mass is mandatory. Times are listed at the bottom for when students have to be awake and when they have to be asleep. Eight in the morning and eleven at night, respectively. Breakfast is at eight thirty, classes start at nine, lunch is at noon on the dot, classes resume, there’s an hour of downtime (which Michael supposes is study hall) until dinner at five, there’s something stupid called “reflection time” for another hour, and then it’s free time until lights out. Simple enough.

He flips through the papers once again and looks through them with more care. There’s a list of books he has to pick up from the library and a list of the school rules, both of which Michael skips over (maybe he’ll glance at them later, but the chance of that happening are very close to nil) to instead try and find his dorm arrangement. He finds it hiding between his insurance information which he has to drop off at the nurse’s office before dinner tonight and an introductory paper to the school. Looks like he’s rooming in Room A-H with…shit, was that _five_ other fucking guys in his room? The rooms must be bigger than he thought. He glances through the names and they all look like normal names to him, so he pays them no mind.

Sister Angela says his name to get his attention and he looks up with a snap of his head and a quiet “Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m going to show you up to your room now, okay? Here’s a map of the school, too, but maybe you can ask one of your new roommates to show you around and help you get what you need. And it’s not listed in there, but you’ll need to pick up a school uniform from the laundry room before the end of the day, but it’s right next to the nurse’s so you can do both things at the same time.” She stands up and begins walking out, so Michael quickly jumps up and follows her. There is no way he’s getting lost on his first day here, no sir-ee.

Michael follows her down a few hallways and up a few flights of stairs to the third floor where, she explains, all of the dorms are; the classrooms are on the second floor and the first floor is where students eat and where the recreation areas are held, as well as the sanctuary.

The staircase opens up to a hallway that goes to the right and the left with a wall directly in front; a sign is facing Michael with arrows to the A hallway pointing right and the B hallway pointing left. It would explain why his room was labeled with letters rather than numbers, at any rate. He follows Sister Angela to the right and down until the seventh door, where she knocks on the door and, when nobody answers her, opens it.

There’s three sets of bunk beds; two on the left side of the room and the third on the right, with a giant window on the wall opposite the door. There is a bookshelf next to the bunk bed on the right, and a chest of drawers directly to both the right and left of the door; Michael also notices shelves on the undersides of each of the three bunk beds.

“I’ll leave you to settle in, Michael. Your new roommates should be here in about twenty minutes, which is when the last class ends, and then you’ll all head down for dinner. You can fill out your insurance information in the meantime, and unpack and become comfortable.” Michael nods to her and throws his plastic bags on the last remaining bed, the bottom bunk to the right. All of the other beds look well worn, with personalized things scattered across each of them.

It looks like a home rather than a dorm. Like it’s well-loved.

“My bags come in in two days, Sister, so can I go to the airport and pick them up then?” Michael sighs as he sits down on the bed, testing it out; it’s comfortable enough. Not the best thing ever, but definitely not the worst bed he’s slept in.

She chuckles. “I was wondering if those were the only things you brought, but I didn’t want to pry. I’ll have someone go and pick them up for you then, as I’m sure you’ll be in school at the time. Just tell the man in the laundry room your situation and I’m sure he can find you something to wear for bed tonight, and some…well, I’m sure he’ll figure it out. But I’ll leave you to settle in now. I hope coming to learn here will be a blessing to you and those around you, Michael.”

She smiles at him one last time and closes the door.

Michael lies down on his new bed roughly, rolling over so his face was covered by the sheet-less mattress (shit, he’s going to have to ask for sheets too, isn’t he?).

This is going to be a long seven months.

…

A door opening with a bang sends Michael surging upwards in a slight daze; he had dozed off on the bed as soon as he had finished his paperwork, which had taken a grand total of three seconds, considering there was nothing for him to do but sign that, yes, his name was Michael Jones and yes, this information that his mother had filled out last week was completely correct.

“Whassit?” Michael mutters, palming the bed for his glasses because seriously where the fuck did those things go?

“Oh, you must be the new guy!” The voice that greets him is very deep and Michael finally locates his glasses and puts them on, looking towards who spoke; he is tall, with brown hair and a brown beard and- Jesus, this guy had tattoos. Is that even _allowed_ in a Catholic school? The tattooed arm is extended towards him and Michael confusedly takes it, shaking it lightly.

“Michael Jones. And you?”

“Geoff Ramsey!” Geoff moves over to the far left bunk bed and throws his book bag onto the top bunk and then moving back to sit next to Michael on his bed. “So what’re you sentenced here for?”

Michael stares at him blankly. What the fuck does that even _mean_?

“Alright, alright, I get it, I share before you share, okay. My folks walked in on my girlfriend giving me a blowjob in my room and promptly flipped shit and carted me off here to ‘protect her from my sinful ways’. Parents, amirite?” Geoff’s laugh is child-like and his grin is lazy and Michael decides he likes Geoff already so he answers in kind.

“Got shit-faced on my birthday last week and my friend Miles dared my friend Kerry to give me a lap-dance. Needless to say, my parents walked in on the exact wrong moment and here I am, halfway across the fucking country.” His voice is still a bit thick with sleep and he yawns halfway through his sentence.

“Damn, dude, that fucking sucks.” Geoff doesn’t sound like he pities Michael, but more like he completely understands the situation; which, granted, he more or less does. “But just for future reference, watch your mouth when you’re outside this room. All the guys here are pretty chill, but for the most part, the kids that attend this school are _actually_ Catholic, even one of the boys in this room, and even more are, like, the ones that _follow_ the rules of Catholicism so. Just be careful, man.” Geoff slaps a hand to Michael’s shoulder, and Michael nods with a mocking “Ay ay, cap’n!” that makes Geoff laugh again and Michael to grin.

“The rest of the boys went to the study hall to start on homework or something, so I’ll be showing you to the nurse’s and shit, since you need to go there before dinner. Which, granted, doesn’t start for another hour, but I’m sure you want to get it out of the way, right?”

Geoff stands and Michael promptly follows suit.

“Yeah, I’m tired of carting these papers around, so lead the way, man.”

…

The nurse’s office, it turns out, is only a few feet away from the main office, and Michael sighs deeply when he realizes he could have gotten this taken care of before he had gone to his room. But whatever, what’s done is done. Geoff walks in and greets the nurse, introducing Michael and explaining why they’re here.

“Okay, Geoff, thank you for bringing him here. Michael, you can just hand me the papers and I can handle everything from here; sound good?” God, she’s just as smiley as Sister Angela, Michael notices. Are all the nuns going to be like this? But Michael forks over the paperwork and she sticks it into a manila envelope and motions for them to carry on their way. Geoff says a quick goodbye to the nurse and then ushers Michael out the door as quickly as they had come in.

He leads Michael into the laundry room next, and this time there is no one, so Geoff calls back into the room which is filled with shelves, and, in Michael’s mind, resembles a library with clothes in place of books. He hears what sounds like multiple washers and dryers running in the far end of the room as well as a responding shout for them to wait just a moment, and a man walks into view. He runs his hands down the front of his black pants and adjusts his collar, the white peeking through showing just who he is.

“Hey, Father, this is Michael and he just showed up today so can you get him some new digs?” Geoff shoves his thumb in Michael’s direction, and the Father chuckles at the boy’s choice of words.

“Sure, son. Michael, I have your clothes in the back, and Sister Angela went ahead and told me about your bags being lost, so I have some other things for you as well. I’ll just run and get them for you.” And he goes and brings back a bag of clothing, which Michael doesn’t even look at, as he’s sure it looks identical to the outfit Geoff is wearing: black dress pants, blue sweater over a white collared shirt, black dress shoes.

“Thank you, Father.” Michael stutters over the term again, and he knows it’ll be a while until he’s used to that.

The Father just smiles back and tells him to enjoy his dinner before he walks into the back of the room again and Geoff walks back into the hallway and to the left.

“Pretty much everything on this floor but the visiting center is down this hall, so just go down here if you’re looking for something and chances are you’ll find it. It’s pretty organized though, so it’ll be pretty hard for you to get lost.” Geoff calls back and Michael hums in acknowledgement. Michael really doubts that; his sense of direction is pretty shot and he already feels turned around, despite walking straight down a hallway for the past few minutes.

They reach a door labeled “cantina” and open it, walking through, and loud chatter meets Michael’s ears immediately. There looks to be around one hundred students here, give or take ten (come on, Michael’s not gonna fucking count each person in here), and Michael just stands in awe of how much smaller this school is in comparison to his old school. Also, Michael notes, it’s co-ed, although it seems the girls aren’t allowed to eat with the boys, considering the room is divided in half by an open space between the tables, with girls on the left and boys on the right. Michael just kind of chuckles. Won’t be a problem for him, all things considered. Boys were just as good as girls.

Michael follows Geoff over to the food bar and they are served with…wow, it looks like _actual_ food. That’s a first. But now Geoff has stopped and is looking over to the left, where the boys are, and looking for what Michael presumes are his friends. Michael’s heart stutters for a brief moment; what if Geoff didn’t want to sit with him? Where the fuck was he supposed to go?

“Geoff! My man!” Michael turns toward the voice the same time that Geoff does, and Geoff’s face breaks into a smile as they see a burly man with a beard (seriously, how old were these guys?) waving at them vigorously. Geoff motions for Michael to follow him, and he briefly sends up thanks to someone he doesn’t believe in before doing so and they sit down next to each other.

“Now, I’m gonna make introductions, so don’t scare the poor guy too much, alright?” Geoff immediately takes charge before anyone has a chance to speak and everyone (Michael included) chuckles a bit. “Michael, this is the gang. Gang, this is Michael.” The ‘gang’ waves to Michael who timidly smiles and nods his greeting back. There’s a brief pause where no one says anything, but then Geoff breaks it and orders “Well, tell the guy your names!” and everyone blinks and starts speaking at once and then everyone erupts into laughter.

When everyone quiets down, the boy sitting across from Michael announces himself. “I’ll start first. Ray Narvaez, Junior: Tuxedo Mask extraordinaire.” And Ray extends his hand towards Michael and they shake. Michael has no idea what that means, but judging by how everyone else smiles as what Ray said, he guesses it’s a Thing.

The guy next to Ray extends his arm first and introduces himself to Michael as they shake. “Ryan Haywood. They think I’m insane, but I prefer the term Mad King of the Universe.” That gives Michael pause, but then he’s moving on to the next person.

And, wow, is he moving on to the next person. He can’t breathe because of the sight before him; vivid green eyes and beautiful, dirty blonde hair that looks like it defies gravity the way it stands up, and, yeah, the guys got kind of a big nose, but _damn_ does he manage to pull it off.

“I’d shake your hand but, uh. It’s a bit of a reach, innit?”

The English accent is a bit of a throw, but Michael can totally dig it. God _damn_.

“My name’s Gavin Free. Pleasure to meet ya!” Gavin’s smile is bright and Michael’s face turns red and everyone else notices but doesn’t comment. Michael and Gavin stare at each other for a moment more until the boy sitting to the left of Geoff clears his throat and introduces himself.

“Jack Pattillo, and trust me when I say I’m the only normal one in this group. Get ready for the ride of your life, boy.”

Michael nods to him before shifting his gaze back over to Gavin, who has resumed his conversation with Ryan but still sneaks glances back at Michael throughout the rest of dinner.

Ray begins talking to him, asking him typical “get to know each other” questions before the conversation gets completely blown off track and they talk about how fucking stupid the newest playstation console looks, because seriously, how is that thing supposed to ventilate if it looks like that.

Maybe this place won’t be too bad, Michael thinks.

…

Michael had discovered that he slept directly under Gavin in the dorm, and just. Jesus shit, did He really have it out for him this bad?

But he had slept fine and when morning came about, he decided whoever owns that alarm clock is going to get a serious ass kicking. It’s…well, it sounds like someone recorded themselves trying to caw like a bird, but it also sounds like a train wreck with a mix of a hangover, and it’s successful in waking him up, to say the least.

“Gavin, turn that fucking thing off before I murder you.”

Michael can’t tell who spoke as the voice was muffled, but he hears no movement on the bed above him, so he gets out of his own bed and stands up on his tiptoes, still half asleep. He gropes around on the bed’s edge and ends up hitting Gavin’s chest and then his knees as he looks for the phone or clock or whatever the fuck is making that noise because it seriously needs to stop.

Gavin giggles and flips over as Michael hits his body again and Gavin sits up and picks his phone up from the other side of his pillow. So _that’s_ why Michael couldn’t find it. Gavin shuts it off before smirking at Michael.

“Michael,” Really, the way Gavin says his name should be fucking illegal, “are you trying to make a move on me? You know that’s a sin, right?”

Despite Gavin’s voice being coy, Michael goes stiff and red. Was Gavin- fuck, Gavin was the one boy in this room that is actually Catholic. Great.

“No! Why the fuck would I be doing that? I was trying to find that fucking phone so I could chuck it up against a wall so we could get some actual fucking peace in here, shit for brains.”

And yeah, maybe Michael isn’t making a good impression, but he is tired and annoyed and really pissed at the world and, dammit, he’s allowed to blow up sometimes.

Gavin just smiles at him again and winks. “Sure you weren’t.” He climbs down the ladder- or, rather, he goes to climb down it, misses the rung, and ends up falling down onto the floor with a loud grunt.

Michael decides Gavin’s an idiot and scowls at him.

“Just don’t sleep through your alarm next time, asshole.” He grits out and goes about changing into his uniform, firmly ignoring the fact that Gavin is doing the exact same thing next to him.

Or, rather, he would have changed into his uniform if he hadn’t been given, you know, _the fucking girls uniform_.

As Michael holds up the skirt in shock he hears Gavin’s loud laughter burst out and then everyone else notices and follows suit. Michael blushes quickly and shoves his clothes back into the shelves and marches out the door, hell bent on getting himself a proper fucking uniform.

Gavin’s laughter rings through his head for the next hour.

…

([x](http://utterlymavin.tumblr.com/post/56837816663/did-somebody-say-catholicschool-mavin))

“So you’re saying it’s wrong for two guys to love each other?”

Michael knew he was going to hate this class the most, but the sheer stupidity of this teacher is a tad ridiculous. The Bible was written _how_ many fucking years ago? Do people honestly think everything still applies?

“Well, yes, Mr. Jones. The Bible says it is a sin for man to lie with man as he does with a woman, and a sin it shall remain. Now please stop interrupting class, Mr. Jones.” The teacher turns back around and continues writing on the board and drawing charts and such, because, you know, Leviticus is just that interesting.

“Yeah, well, so is that cotton-polyester blend shirt you’re wearing.” Michael mutters and Gavin looks at him sideways; he looks almost…worried? Gavin writes something down quickly and tears his paper off and passes it to Michael discreetly.

_You shouldn’t make such a scene, Michael the bible says it’s a sin so it’s a sin, okay? I’m worried about you…are you even saved?_

Michael just stares at the paper for a few moments before looking back up to Gavin. He looks serious, but Michael really hopes he’s joking.

_You’re fucking with me, right? There’s no way you’re being serious here._

Michael watches Gavin intently and sees Gavin’s eyebrows scrunch together and think a while before writing his reply. Michael and Gavin have long since ignored the teacher in favor of their conversation.

_Of course I’m serious, Michael! Your soul is a very serious matter, why would I joke about that?_

_Because religion’s a fucking joke, that’s why. Seriously. Yeah, okay, the Bible’s got a lot of good shit to follow and the Ten Commandments are pretty alright, I guess, but a lot of the Bible is fucked up. Like, blood sacrifices, fucked up._

_Yeah, but that was the Old Testament! Not a lot of things from that apply now, Michael, we’re civilized now!_

_Case in point, asshole._

Lunch that day is spent in a tense silence.

…

“So do you, uh…do you play?”

Michael looks up to see Gavin standing before him, shuffling his feet and playing with his hands. Gavin turns his hand to look behind him and Michael sees the rest of the guys giving Gavin Looks and Hand Motions. Michael slides his eyes back to Gavin who looks as nervous as a girl on her first date.

Michael guesses the guys got tired of them ignoring each other after a full week.

“Play what?” Michael goes back to doing his homework on Ruth and how she gleaned from the fields and whatnot and Gavin stutters over his sentence again.

“Oh, uh! Games! Er, well, videogames. Do you play videogames?” Gavin rubs the back of his neck and Michael decides to stop torturing the boy. He knows how to hold a grudge, but the guys obviously giving this his best shot, so he might as well quite giving Gavin a hard time.

“Yeah, I do. All the time. And you know that, Gavin. Me and Ray talk about Halo and Minecraft all the time.”

Gavin blushes slightly, slouching into himself and still standing there awkwardly. Michael sighs before telling him to “sit down, idiot.” Gavin does so with a relieved nod.

They sit in silence, the only sound coming from Michael’s pencil as he moves from Bible homework to Trigonometry, the bane of his entire existence.

Michael decides to break the silence.

“So do you play?”

“What?”

“Do you play videogames?”

“Oh, yeah, uh. Yeah, I do. I play Halo but I kind of…suck at it. Royally. And Minecraft, too, and Jack’s been introducing me to Trials lately, so that’s cool too. And Left 4 Dead of course. And-”

“Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to list every game you’ve ever played to me.”

“Oh.”

This is probably the most awkward conversation he’s ever been in, but Michael tries his hardest. He really does.

They stutter around each other, stopping and starting again and again and Michael knows the guys are watching them closely from the door but it doesn’t help nor hinder the conversation. Well, not for Michael, at any rate. They move along topics like water, switching from gaming to cameras to what Michael is willing to do for a million dollars and by the end of free time, they’re smiling at each other brightly and feel warm in their chests.

Michael thinks Gavin’s the best thing at this school.

…

“There’s no way. No. Fucking. Way.”

Michael is staring at the calendar and at the bright red circle on it.

“No way, what, Michael?”

Gavin walks up behind him, pressing closer than what society would deem as appropriate, but their relationship is just like that.

“Christmas is next week!” Michael turns to Gavin with a shocked expression and Gavin’s face lights up.

“You didn’t realize? Man, I’ve been excited for ages about it! My parents are coming to the country to visit this year, too, so you’ll get to finally meet them, Michael!” Gavin bounces up and down with more excitement than a seventeen year old boy should have and grabs Michael’s hands to make him jump around with him, to no avail. Michael merely allows his arms to flail about in Gavin’s grip but stands his ground, giving Gavin quite the nonplussed look. Gavin eventually gets the memo and calms down once more.

“That’s cool, man. No, I didn’t realize ‘cos I’ve been really busy with, well, you know. New school, shit ton of homework, making sure your stupid ass doesn’t kill itself.” Michael smirks at Gavin who smiles right back (well, he hasn’t stopped smiling, really, ever since he met Michael, but that’s for another time).

“Aw, is my little boy worried about me?” Gavin teases and Michael’s body seizes up. He yanks his arms back to himself and goes to sit on his bed.

“No, I just…ugh. Whatever. So your parents are coming here? All the way from England?” Gavin nods vigorously.

“What about your parents, Michael, they’re coming too, right? Almost everybody’s parents come to visit!” Gavin plops down right next to Michael and Ryan calls to them to not start fucking in front of everyone else. Michael flips him off before turning back to Gavin.

“In all honesty, I have no fucking clue. We didn’t…” Michael pauses as he remembers his father’s last words to him. _You’re the biggest disappointment I’ve ever had._ “We didn’t part on good terms.” Shit, his voice just cracked, and his throat is thick and his mother would look at him with so much pity, he shouldn’t cry he’s a big boy now he’s grown he shouldn’t be acting like such a child suck it up Michael-

A hand slides into his own and he looks to Gavin and both their faces are sporting a similar shade of red. Gavin timidly smiles at him and Michael timidly smiles back.

…

Turns out, not just Gavin’s parents had come to visit; they brought along Gavin’s friend Dan, as well.

Michael’s chest burns as he sees them talking to each other. Michael’s just sitting there awkwardly; when Gavin had said everyone’s parents came to visit, he wasn’t kidding, Michael is literally the only kid there without a family to talk to. And Michael can feel it deep in his bones, an aching to feel accepted and he thought he had finally found it with the boys in Room A-H with Geoff’s cracking laughter and Ray’s stupid Sailor Moon reference and Jack’s obsession with Trials and Ryan’s insanity and with Gavin’s…well, Gavin. He had felt he had a home with Gavin.

But now, looking at Gavin laugh with Dan and his mother and father while Michael just sits there with nothing to say and nothing to do, he’s lonely.

He gets up to leave and ends up walking straight into his father’s chest.

“Dad?”

“Michael.”

If Michael hadn’t thought he was awkward a moment ago, he’s certainly feeling it now. But luckily his mother is there; his ridiculously emotional mother.

She sweeps him up in a hug, tears running down her face and Michael’s breath is squeezed out of his chest.

“Mom, seriously, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, Michael, it’s been so long! We’ve missed you!” Michael just looks at his father and his mother chimes in with a hard “Didn’t we, sweetie?” And his father coughs and mutters something along the lines of an agreement but Michael seriously doubts it.

“So how have you liked it here, sweetie?” His mother leads him and his father over to a (miraculously) unoccupied table and they sit down; Michael can see Gavin still. He’s still talking to Dan. It’s like he never even noticed Michael leave. Michael sighs to himself. Typical.

Michael shrugs in response to his mother before elaborating. “It’s school, mom. I wake up, I eat, I go to class, I eat lunch, I go to more classes, I go to dinner, I do my homework, I go to bed. It’s not any different than back home.”

Actually, it’s a lot more different, but his parents don’t need to know about that.

There’s a minute of silence before Michael hears his mother kick his father, and then the man in front of him speaks.

“So, uh.” Michael knows his father has never been very good with words, so he lets him think his sentence over for a minute. “Have you made any…friends?”

Michael almost wants to laugh at the question but knows his father wouldn’t be very pleased with being mocked. He’s gotten the brunt of his father’s anger enough times to know not to mock his father ever again.

“Yeah, I have. My roommates are pretty cool.” And he begins explaining each of them to his parents, but for some reason, when he reaches Gavin, he can’t bring himself to explain the boy. There’s a thought in his head that’s pushing at him to ignore the subject of Gavin for as long as he can, so he does; his instincts have never let him down before, so it’s not like he’s going to just start ignoring them.

“Your roommates sound lovely, Michael.”

Really, his parents need to learn how to do small talk better. Michael’s tired of filling in silences.

“So how’ve things been in Jersey?”

His mother sighs a bit but speaks of how their neighbor’s cat has started digging up his mother’s garden and how Mrs. Agatha’s peaches are getting on and how the local bowling alley is being renovated. She goes on and on about home and, to Michael’s surprise, he finds he really doesn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t care about his home and he really wishes his parents would just…leave him be.

His mother is interrupted by a loud, and very annoying, British accent calling out Michael’s name excitedly.

“Michael, Michael! Oooohhh, are these your parents? I thought you said they weren’t coming?” Gavin runs up to them, stars dancing in his eyes as he extends his hand to Mr. and Mrs. Jones and Michael freezes in his seat. The voice that told him not to tell his parents about Gavin is on full red alert now, going into meltdown mode, and he isn’t sure why but he knows this is bad. His father’s going to find out and he’s going to be in so much trouble for this, for…for Gavin. He doesn’t know what his father’s going to find out, but his father’s going to find it out and take him away, take him somewhere else, and oh God.

“My name’s Gavin Free! I’m Michael’s roommate.” Gavin is shaking his father’s hand and Michael thinks he’s going to have a stroke.

“Oh, really? Michael didn’t mention you.” His father’s voice is hesitant and he throws a look over to Michael, who hunches down in his seat shamefully. He shouldn’t have lied to his father. He’s such a bad boy, such a bad son, why is he like this, why why why?

“Michael, did you really?” Gavin deflates into the chair next to Michael and pouts at him. Michael just throws him a panicked look and Gavin becomes alert once more. Michael’s father is looking between Michael and Gavin, analyzing the way they lean slightly towards each other, noticing how they speak without words and how they just know each other so well.

“Michael, I need to speak with you for a moment outside, if you don’t mind.”

His father’s voice cuts through the air like a knife and it lands straight in Michael’s jugular. Kill shot.

Everyone’s body tenses when his father stands up and waits for Michael to do the same. Michael’s throat swells and his eyes tremble and his fingers shake, but stand he does, and he follows his father outside.

It’s night, and the stars aren’t very bright, the city line of Austin a few miles off in the distance causing them to blur. Despite the heat, Michael shivers as he follows his father down the steps and into the front lawn.

“We paid for you to come here so you would learn to stop being such a rotten sinner, Michael, not to be a faggot and whore yourself out to everyone willing to look at you twice.”

His father’s voice is as harsh and reprimanding as Michael remembers and Michael slouches inwards, shame coursing through his veins. He mumbles an apology.

“Do you honestly think an apology is enough? Do you think the Father thinks an apology is _enough_ , Michael?” His roar echoes out to the street and Michael flinches, his eyes stinging. “It’s not enough for you to be _sorry_ , Michael, you have to actually stop sinning! But no, you’re probably too busy being fucked into a mattress and begging for it like the little whore you are.”

Michael can’t see; he refuses to look at his father, and his tears won’t stop, and he hasn’t felt like this since his birthday all those months ago.

“Well, Michael, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Michael can barely make out the shape of his father’s shoes in front of him and knows his father will strike if he doesn’t say the right thing. He thinks. And thinks some more.

He remembers Gavin’s hand in his. He remembers Gavin’s bright smile and bright eyes and bright hope and bright faith in humanity.

He looks up to his father, and stands his ground for the first time in his life.

…

“I’m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of that man that dares to call himself Michael’s father, I swear I’ll do it-”

“Geoff, I doubt it’s going to help anyone right now. Especially Michael, okay? Just…be calm for him right now, I’m sure he’s having a hard time, okay?”

Geoff and Ryan stare at each other for a while until Geoff’s heavy breathing slows and his fists unclench.

“Fine.” He grits out. “But I’m only doing this for Michael.”

They walk into the nurse’s office and go to the bed Michael’s sitting in, Gavin in a chair next to him and holding his hand and an ice pack up to Michael’s face. Ray is in the bathroom right now and Jack is being questioned by the police, for God knows what reason. They all are being questioned; Geoff’s session was relatively short, and he was grateful for it. It seems, however, they’ve interrupted an important conversation, as Gavin and Michael freeze and stare at Geoff and Ryan.

Ryan slaps a hand to Geoff’s shoulder.

“Well, glad you’re feeling okay, Michael, goodnight!” And yanks Geoff right back out of the room.

Geoff looks at Ryan, eyebrows scrunched together. “The fuck, dude?”

“Did you not see the way they were looking at each other? Jesus, if we had waited like, five more minutes to walk into that room, we wouldn’t be dealing with anymore awkward sexual tension in the dorm anymore. Seriously.”

Geoff nods in understanding.

“Let’s stand guard and make sure nobody else bothers them, then.”

Ryan nods right back.

…

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just tell me about your father, Michael.” Gavin mutters as he places the ice pack back on Michael’s cheek, resuming the conversation before things got all…sidetracked.

Michael looks at the wall behind Gavin’s head.

“Wow, my bad for not telling you about every single skeleton in my fucking closet, Gavin.” Michael’s voice is bitter and he can’t stop blabbering and so it’s a bit inevitable that he lets out what’s been burning him whenever he looks at Gavin. “I still don’t know why you didn’t just tell me about Dan, Gavin.”

Gavin leans back and stares at Michael in shock.

“Seriously, Michael? Out of all the things that happened tonight, you want to talk about _Dan_?” Gavin sounds angry and so Michael yanks the ice pack out of Gavin’s hand and presses it to his face again (it doesn’t feel nearly as soothing, but Michael refuses to acknowledge that).

“So what if I do? You fucking left me sitting there, knowing I thought my parents weren’t coming, and you just. Left. I had been sitting there for a good hour having done nothing, Gavin, and you didn’t even notice when I left!”

“Oh, so it’s my bloody responsibility to look after you, is it? You could have gone to meet Ray’s family, or Geoff’s girlfriend, or Jack’s pen-pal, but you didn’t. Instead, you sat there and moped about, expecting the whole world to take pity on you.” Gavin’s voice is dripping and Michael scowls.

“I expected you to at least talk to me, considering you dragged me over to your family and sat me down right next to you!”

“But that isn’t the problem, is it, Michael? Because I was excited to see my family again and even if Dan wasn’t there, you know that’s how I get when I get excited about something; it’s like I can’t even think about anything else, and we’ve talked about this Michael, multiple times. I would have sat there talking with my parents and chances are you wouldn’t have cared. So this means it’s about Dan specifically.”

And, dammit if Gavin didn’t know him the best.

Michael shifts his gaze away once more and Gavin knows he’s hit the jackpot.

“There’s no need to be jealous of Dan, Michael, I promise.”

And maybe it’s Michael’s imagination, but Gavin’s voice is softer; gentler. Gavin takes back the ice pack and continues applying pressure to Michael face, and Michael locks eyes with him.

“And…I don’t think you’re a dirty sinner, either, Michael. Hearing what your father said to you…seeing what he did…I don’t think I want to believe in something that can produce someone like that anymore.”

Yeah, Gavin’s voice is definitely softer. And his face is definitely closer.

Michael gulps.

“At least, to a point. I guess I should say I shouldn’t blindly follow something anymore. All those old rules are kind of useless in today’s society, don’t you think?”

Gavin moves his face back and Michael’s chest unwinds, his heart thudding behind his ears.

“Yeah. It’s about time you came around.” Michael smiles and Gavin smiles right back.

It’s about time.

…

Michael wakes up covered in sweat and panting, his clothes sticking to his skin and his legs twisted in his blankets, and blindly lashes out at the figure looming over his body.

“Jesus, dude, calm down, it’s just me!”

Ray is whispering, trying to calm Michael down, and so Michael does.

“Wha-what’d you wake me up for?” Michael asks after apologizing, and he sits up. “Was I having a nightmare or somethin’?”

Ray laughs mockingly. “Dude, I wish. It sounded like you were having a fucking wet dream about Gavin and I got sick of hearing you moan like a bitch so I came to wake you up.”

Michael’s entire body, mind, and soul freezes.

What.

No, seriously, _what the ever-loving fuck_?

Ray walks back over to his own bed and lies back down, so Michael shifts his covers around to inspect himself and- yeah, no, that’s definitely a boner. Oh, Christ on a cracker.

…

All the next day, Michael can’t look at Gavin.

The trees are beginning to bloom and the excitement for summer break is beginning to bear down on the student population, so Michael decides to take a break from the indoors and go outside for his study time today. He sits under a tree (he burns easy as a fucking vampire, he swears) and begins on his homework, ignoring any attempt made at distracting him from his purpose of Ignore Gavin.

So, naturally, Gavin follows him outside a few minutes later and plops himself right next to Michael.

Instantly Michael’s entire body flushes and he can feel Gavin’s presence right through his clothes and that accent is hammering its way through Michael’s veins and going straight to-

“Oh, no you don’t, Gavin. Go away, I’m doing my homework.”

“But Michael! You’ve barely spoken a word to me all day; I’m worried about my boy!” Gavin wraps his arms around Michael, his voice whining, and Michael stiffens.

“I’m fine, Gavin, I just- God, can’t I be alone for five goddamn minutes?” And maybe he’s a bit harsher than he should be, but he’s honest-to-God getting aroused from a fucking _hug_ and this has gotten way too out of hand.

Gavin pulls back as if he’s been stung.

“Michael…are you sure you’re alright?” And damn it all, Gavin sounds like a kicked puppy and Michael hates when he does this, he swears.

Michael sighs.

“Look, I. It’s hard for me to admit this, so just. Give me a minute.” His face is red and he’s stuttering all over his words and wow he needs to work on his social skills. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huge rush. “I may or may not have had a wet dream about you last night, okay?”

Gavin’s face colors so quickly it’s almost purple, and then he starts fucking _laughing_.

“Seriously, Michael? That’s what you were worried about?” He can barely speak he’s laughing so hard, and Michael is just very, very confused.

“Well, yeah, dude! It’s not exactly normal to have a wet dream about your guy best friend, man!” Michael defends himself, huffing and folding his arms.

“Yeah, maybe, but do you honestly think I care? It ain’t like you can help it, I mean-” He snorts and continues on speaking, “I _am_ pretty hot.”

“Oh, shut up, you idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ idiot, right?”

Michael smiles.

“Yeah, you are.”

…

Having grown up in New Jersey and living there his entire life, he really didn’t think he’d see the day he blessed the invention of air conditioning, and yet here he is. Because really, summer in Texas really sucks major ass.

He’s laying down in Gavin’s bed, Gavin next to him, both shirtless and trying not to melt; neither of them know why they’re lying next to each other, however, so they choose to ignore it for now.

“This weather sucks.”

“God, tell me about it; it never got anywhere near this hot in England, this is just bloody torture.”

“Will you two just fuck? Maybe then you’d stop your moaning.”

“Oh, piss off, Ray.”

They don’t move away from each other; if anything, they scoot closer together, hands linking together and shoulders touching. They sneak secret smiles to each other all the time now, and this is no different.

…

“Gavin, why are we in the janitor’s closet?”

“Just.” Gavin checks the door for the fifth time in as many seconds to make sure it’s locked, and turns back to Michael. “You remember how, like, at Christmas, I basically told you I didn’t think being gay was a sin anymore?”

Michael’s confusion is written all over his face. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, uh.”

Michael thinks back to the first week Michael had known Gavin and their stupid, petty fight, and how Gavin acted when he tried to apologize. So Michael stands there, silently, and allows Gavin to figure it out this time.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Well, _that_ certainly hadn’t been what Michael was expecting.

Michael opens his mouth to reply, but is promptly cut off.

“And, before you can say anything, just- let me say this, please. I’m begging you, I’ve been practicing what to say for weeks now, and if you don’t let me say it, I think I’ll go crazy, so just…stay quiet for a moment longer, yeah?”

Michael nods.

“Okay. Well. First off, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Michael. And yeah we had a really stupid fight, like, the first full day we knew each other, but we worked it out and everything was fine and then we started talking and I got to know you Michael. And you’re. You’re just. You’re beautiful, Michael, you’re so vibrant and full of energy and I don’t ever want to stop making you laugh, because you honestly have the loveliest laugh, Michael. And when I found you on Christmas, talking to your parents, and you gave me that look, I just- I immediately knew. I should have known, or at least guessed, way beforehand, but I still let you go with him, outside and alone, and I really don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry for that. No, Michael, don’t talk this is my time. Let me finish.

I let you go with him, and I followed you a minute later and heard him yelling at you and calling you all these horrible and disgusting names and just beating the tar out of you, Michael, but you were fighting back as strong as ever and my heart’s never felt so full or so proud. You were finally standing up to your demon, Michael, and I was so proud. And trying to stop your father was the scariest thing I’ve ever done, but I’ll do it a hundred thousand times more, just for you, Michael.

And when you told me you were jealous of Dan I thought it was the most ridiculous thing, because here I was, completely sold to you, and you honestly thought you had competition. And, granted, I didn’t even realize just how much I loved you until that night, and knowing you, you probably hadn’t thought about it at all until, like, a month ago, _maybe_ , so. Yeah. But then you had that wet dream about me and, God, it was just about the hottest thing you ever could have said to me and my brain didn’t know what to do with the information so I started laughing hysterically and couldn’t stop and then I couldn’t stop talking, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I still can’t stop thinking about it. About you thinking about us like that. And after sitting down with Geoff and Ryan and Jack and Ray and talking with them for a while about everything, I guess I kind of decided it was finally time to tell you this. So. I love you, Michael Jones.”

Gavin takes a deep breath and Michael doesn’t move for a moment until-

“Gavin, you dumbass.”

And he smashes their lips together.

Lips and tongues slide together easily, Michael holding Gavin’s body close to his with hands firmly on his ass and Gavin’s arms are wrapped around Michael’s neck, and yeah, it’s better than the wet dream(s) he’s had involving Gavin fucking Free.

Michael shoves their bodies together against the door, the movement causing the free-hanging light bulb above them to sway back and forth, but they miss the action due to their closed eyes. Hands move freely and eventually Gavin is hitched up and is held mid air and is grinding against Michael’s hips furiously and they’re losing breath and stealing each other’s hearts all in one moment.

When they finish, they stop and stare at each other and smile. Michael steps back slightly, allowing Gavin a few inches of spaces, and chuckles at a thought. Gavin’s eyebrows scrunch in question, and Michael answers it.

([x](http://utterlymavin.tumblr.com/post/56857118118/catholicschool-mavin-is-the-best-au-to-ever-happen))

“Why Mr. Free, don’t you know how wrong it is to love another man?”

Gavin laughs and pulls Michael back to him before kissing him again.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> END: This was my first time writing in this style, and I think I like it a lot more than my usual one! If you have any criticism for me, don’t hesitate to say it; one can always learn to do their trade better, in my opinion, so even if you think it’s dumb, please don’t hesitate to tell me. 
> 
> Also, this turned out to be less of a Catholic school AU than a boarding school AU, gomenasai. I was originally gonna have Gavin have a lot more qualms about being gay, but then it turned more into a fic of him growing up and learning to question his religion and yeah uvu So I’m sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind, dearie, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!


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